


Can I kiss you?

by twitchtipthegnawer



Category: Hunted - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Lizard People, Monsters, Multi, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles for my bff's ocs. Based on prompts found on tumblr. Mostly consists of the ocs being gay lizard monsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting au

**Author's Note:**

> Like the prompts? They're found here: http://ptsdkvothe.tumblr.com/post/112660685895/send-me-two-or-more-characters-and-a-number-and and here http://bumblingdisaster.tumblr.com/post/112105228364/tokiosunset-people-should-do-more-meet-ugly-and
> 
> Want me to write about your ocs? Send a comment, I'm always desperate for motivation and outside validation lol.
> 
> The prompt for this one was: Toru/Kenji first meeting au, "I sent a selfie of myself in the tub to the wrong number and you responded back with another sefie. Holy shit you're really attractive."

Kenji giggled to himself in his cocoon of bubbles, his arms draped over the edge of the bathtub and chin resting on the rim as he hit send. Gently, he set his phone on the tile floor (iPhones are so damn fragile, he's never buying another one) and leaned back into the warm water. His hair floated around him in a white seaweed halo, and he twirled it around one finger idly while he reached for the conditioner. It was going to take for-fucking-ever to de tangle his mane if he didn't get it nice and glossy first.

He was interrupted by the low brzz noise that signified his phone vibrating on the tiles, distracting him from his task of working his slick fingers through the long locks. Rinsing off a hand and drying it on the washcloth hanging by the bath, Kenji reached over and picked up the phone, reassuming his earlier relaxed, bath-texting posture. This was quickly ruined when he saw the text he'd just received and most certainly did not yelp like a shocked puppy and drop his phone on the floor. Shit, was it broken?

Kenji carefully retrieved the gadget, breathing a sigh of relief at the distinct lack of cracks or chips on its smooth, black surface. He sucked his lip between his teeth, thumb hesitating on the home button for a moment before he decided that procrastinating wasn't going to unsend his picture to that perfect stranger and reopened his texts.

"Nice bubble beard, hot stuff," the responding text read, "but can it beat my ketchup mustache?" The attached picture had to be illegal, it looked like nothing so much as a photoshopped picture of that guy Kenji saw on the news for getting kicked out of his country because he was too beautiful. The face was too youthful, true, and he wasn't clean-shaven, but the beautiful skin was the same, a deep color that looked like it was made to be touched. His eyes were striking, one gold and the other green, the most lovely and obviously hybrid eyes Kenji had seen since he'd met Mai. The lovely stranger had a single, deep scar cutting through one eyebrow, marring the near perfect symmetry and turning the work-of-art aesthetic into the sort of person Kenji would give his right arm to meet in real life, if only so he could drool over them.

And of course, true to his word, Kenji's mystery man had a spotty mustache comprised of over processed tomato paste and vinegar. Kenji is going to die. He is going to die and then come back and kill his own corpse again. He scrolled back up, looked at his picture, and moaned in embarrassed horror. There was a nipple visible in that picture. A nipple. Kenji's hair was a wreck, lying limp and sticky with soap on his shoulders, and the aforementioned bubble beard was sparser than he remembered it being, chunkier, and infinitely more embarrassing when the person seeing it wasn't his girlfriend, but some completely random and beautiful stranger.

Kenji rubbed at his face with the palm of his free hand, the other slowly typing out a message that ended up too short and yet longer than he'd wanted to send. But simply leaving the poor guy wondering who had sent him the picture, and why, seemed too cruel, so Kenji replied (it wasn't at all because he wanted to meet that stunning stranger, no, of course not).

"Omg mr ketchup," he wrote, "are you insinuating my bubble beard is not the dang finest in all the land?" Not his finest comeback, but it would have to do. No man should be expected to function at his wittiest when he was naked, after all.

The response was nigh instantaneous, and Kenji can't stop himself from picturing the gorgeous, full lips in that picture curving up into a smile, free of their crusty red faux facial hair frame. "Of course not mr Santa," it said, "But you must admit, bubble beards in general are so last year."

Kenji snorted before he could stop himself, thumb not hesitating before typing this time. "Surely you jest," he tapped out, "why, just yesterday I saw a Chanel model wearing the most spectacular bubble beard. It went down to her waist!"

"Sorry to break it to you, Santa, but you need a new prescription for your glasses," mr ketchup replied. "That wasn't a Chanel model, but a homeless man who lives in Walmart."

"Oh woe is me," Kenji lay the back of a hand against his forehead, theatrics seen and appreciated only by him. "What's an old, outdated man to do?"

They texted back and forth like that for long enough that the water got tepid, and Kenji crawled out dripping and shivering with his phone in one hand, and a towel in the other. Mr ketchup let slip little details about himself as the conversation continued, until Kenji realized that they went to the same college and bounced to his feet, jumping one triumphant bound that catapulted him face first into the bed.

He is so going to meet mr ketchup tomorrow and tell him how nice his eyebrow scar looks.


	2. Not really cheating.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kenji/Toru/Mai, "Can I kiss you?"

You're all lying on the couch, the three of you relaxed for once and watching tv, when Kenji turns to look at you and asks "Can I kiss you?"

It takes more willpower than you'd admit to not let your jaw go slack at the question. Kenji has a slow grin on his face, his head lolling lazily against his shoulder like he didn't just ask for a kiss in front of his girlfriend. The look on Mai's face, as disbelieving as you feel, tells you that this is not something he premeditated. At least, not out loud.

"Uh," you start, the picture of eloquence. "Why?" Your tone skirts embarrassingly close to stunned stupid.

Kenji shrugs, nonchalant telegraphed down to his fingertips. "I dunno. It would be interesting?" There's something in his tone, something teasing you recognize from your tween years together, but it's different now, not darker but- you're not sure.

Behind him Mai's eyes have gone the flat sort of expressionless that lets you know she's angry, and her tail is curling upwards in what you first think is a threat display, but then you realize yours is doing the same thing and the situation gets even more confusing.

"Okay, I guess," you say, like it's no big deal, returning his shrug and slight grin. You clench your hands on your thighs to stop them from shaking as you lean in.

Mai grabs Kenji's collar and bites his lips fiercely the same moment you over balance, Kenji's sudden movement propelling you face first into his crotch. And, because the world hates you, the twins chose then to walk into the room.

You don't think you'll be kissing Kenji any time soon.


	3. Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Toru/Kenji follow up for the last Drabble, or: "it wasn't supposed to happen like that"

You're sitting together in the kitchen, side by side and enjoying the quiet, when it suddenly strikes you that, for a man, Kenji is very beautiful. The feeling takes you back to a week ago, Kenji's casual offer of a kiss, and you feel your cheeks heat and have to duck your head to avoid him seeing. Your skin may be darker than his, but he has an uncanny blush sensor.

Almost despite your wishes, your eyes flicker up to his mouth, wrapped around a strawberry Popsicle at the moment. The image does nothing to help your flushed face cool down. "Toru?" He says, lips making a pop sound when they disconnect from the treat. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing down at your own melting Popsicle. It's watermelon, and painfully bland, and the reminder of the fact that Kenji just beat you at Rock Paper Scissors unfairly (he had to have cheated, he never wins) does distract you from his long hair draped over his shoulder, sticking to his neck in little licks as sweat beads on his skin. "It's just hot."

Kenji laughs, the sound of fall evenings spent together on the balcony. "You can say that again." He fans himself with his free hand, and though you're not looking at his face you know his eyes are crinkling with a smile.

Courage bursts through you in the usual way, all at once like a desert flash flood, and you reach a hand out to tug the front of Kenji's shirt, his mouth opening to give some exclamation of surprise that you end up swallowing with your lips on his.

As kisses go it isn't very good, you know that, can feel it in the angle and the cold drip of syrupy strawberry that lands on your chest, but when you pull back a second later Kenji's cheeks are flaming hotter than yours were, hotter than the hundred and twelve degree weather outside. If he blushes any harder you'd be worried he was coming down with a fever.

As it is, the redness simply spreads, down his throat and up his ears, as you continue to stand too close and he opens and closes his mouth like a startled fish. "That," he starts, then stops and seems to change the sentence. "That was not supposed to happen like that."

You can't help it; you laugh.


	4. There's Someone in the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the dialog prompt "There's someone in the house," of course. It's non-canon, just related to some random conversation I remembered having with Raphael about possible plot changes she was thinking of making. Also, I'm ridiculously attached to Ares, it's kind of sad tbh. Her villains just, spear me through the heart every time :""")

Mai barreled into the room like a small hurricane, unannounced and violent, pushing Kenji to the ground behind the couch in a movement too sudden for him to even cry out in response. By the time he’d recovered his voice and opened his mouth to ask what was going on Mai’s scaled hand had gone over his mouth, smooth scales burning hot with the adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Someone’s in the house,” she hissed, and it was guttural and feral in a way she usually hated but at this moment didn’t even notice.

Kenji’s ears were suddenly full of the pounding of blood. _Someone’s in the house. Someone’s found them, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a squatter or drazir or Ares himself because whoever it is will have to die, to protect their last safe spot left._ His mouth was dry, drier than the day he thought he was going to bleed his guts onto uncaring concrete. He nodded, tugging on Mai’s wrist to show that he understood and could be silent.

With something close to reluctance, Mai dropped her arm, instead taking a crouching position on the ground beside Kenji, still placed such that no one could see her from the doorway, but now holding a posture that would allow her to get up and fight in less than a second if necessary. Opening his mouth slowly so as not to alarm her further, Kenji breathed a question, voice gone paper thin from stress or necessity, he wasn’t sure. “Where’s Myrra?”

The way Mai’s jaw tensed, teeth grinding together until Kenji’s throat ached just from looking at her, he knew. But she said it anyway, as though by saying it she’d be able to change it. “I don’t know. She was watching a movie with the twins earlier, but.” Her voice didn’t trail off so much as stop, and at first Kenji thought it was because the words are hurting her to say (they hurt to hear, hurt so bad he wanted to cover his ears like he was ten and listening to Toru cry again), but then he heard it too; footsteps on worn wooden boards, quiet beyond just confused-homeless-child quiet, the near silence of trained hunters. He tried to comfort himself, to tell himself that at least it wasn’t the rat claw noise of a drazir stalking them, but his heart was still in his throat.

If it weren’t for the way Mai moves like a rattlesnake striking, Kenji isn’t sure he would have let her dive over the couch when the footsteps pass through the doorway. As it was he had no choice, didn’t even think to stop her until she was already in motion, and messing her up would almost certainly get them both killed. Instead he followed her over, ducking to her left so he could take the target from the side if they dodged her frontal attack.

It became a necessary tactic a second later, when the intruder took a smooth, practiced step to the side and Mai sailed past him harmlessly, or nearly- the moment before he impacted Kenji saw a line of red open on his opponent’s face, blood trickling where Mai’s nails scored him. Then something else registered, long blond hair, green eyes open wide in shock, bruised bags underneath them- and they’re rolling together, Kenji throwing punches, trying to pin him, trying to put him in a headlock like it will make him less deadly.

Part of him expected Mai to get up and take off running, to find the other intruders who must be here, because this man never moves alone. But she didn’t, instead planting her feet the second she hit the ground and spinning, hailing Ares off of Kenji like he’s cotton candy and throwing him against the wall, where he hit with the kind of exhale that let Kenji know he wouldn’t be breathing freely for a bit.

It wasn’t until there’s a lull that Kenji realized Ares didn’t land a single hit on him.

Mai was already closing in on him, hands held with fingers tense and hook-clawed, tail lashing in violent anger. Ares only raised his head, sitting on the ground, and held up his hand wearily, tattoos peeking out from immaculate military jacket. He looked defeated already, and there was something so _wrong_ in that, Kenji’s own personal boogeyman reduced to this in under a minute. Mai was about to pounce, not even hesitating at the weak defense, but then he opened his mouth and said just about the only thing that would make her pause: “Please. I need help.”

“I can see that,” Mai growled back, and damn in any other situation Kenji would find that voice hot, but right now the alien undertones rumbling like an impending earthquake only served to remind him of the danger. “You’re going to be well beyond the reach of any help soon, though.” Kenji tensed, reminded himself Ares could easily be faking the exhaustion, plotting an ambush as they speak. Kenji shifted his weight from foot to foot, eyed the bruises under Ares’ eyes, not just from sleeplessness but from blows, shook his head at himself. He doubted Ares was capable of faking anything at the moment.

Ares’ hand faltered, half fell from where it had been raised as though even holding it there was too much energy for him to expend anymore. “No,” he said, voice breaking the same way children’s voices broke when he destroyed their lives, the same way Mai’s broke when she realized that she could never go out in public again because of people like him. “You don’t understand, I- I’ve made a mistake.” He was shaking all over, from head to toe, and Kenji wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Damn right you have,” Kenji was surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth, full of a venom he didn’t know he possessed. Now that he knew about it it was rising uncontrollably, demanding attention; Kenji found that it was easy to let the next words roll off his tongue, “What clued you in, the blood on your hands?” Ares’ flinch was satisfying, despite the weirdness of seeing him show any emotion beyond smug.

“That’s not-” Ares swallowed hard, choking on words he’d been sure to regret saying (that’s not my fault, that’s not what I meant, that’s not what has left me so full of pain that it’s beginning to bleed into my perfect world). Kenji waited for an explanation, and the longer it took the more time Mai had to crouch, ready herself to pounce. Then the words poured out of Ares’ mouth, a waterfall he seemed helpless to stop.

“I made a deal with the king of the drazir. I thought I could use them, take control of the city, but- he tricked me, he’s on his way and we can’t stop him now, I don’t- I can’t stop him on my own, he’ll kill you just like he kills every other human.”

Mai’s gaze was as wide eyed and shocked as Kenji’s when they locked gazes, and on the floor Ares lets out a laugh that borders on the histerical. “Told you,” he said, still smiling, his bloodstained cheek drooling crimson onto his lips and staining his teeth. “I made a mistake.”

Clenching her fists, Mai looked down at this man, who wouldn’t go to them if he had any other choice, who couldn’t give a dam if they lived or died, only interfered because they could protect him, and said: “I can see that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. I know that making Kenji's narration poetic at all was p much super self indulgent of me and in hindsight I shouldn't have done it cause it'll bug me later but at the time it made me happy so : Y


End file.
